The Con
by Sunset
Summary: Goren and Eames con a would be murderer.


THE CON  
  
"Goren, Major Case." Bobby paused for a moment, listening to the caller, and smiled. "Hey, man. How've you been?" Again, he paused, listening. Then his voice took on a more concerned, professional tone. "She did, huh? Ok, we'll be over to see you in a few minutes." He hung up the phone and looked across his desk, Alex had looked up when she'd heard Bobby's tone change.  
  
"What's up?" she asked.  
  
"Buddy of mine, says last night a woman asked him how she could find someone to kill her husband."  
  
*****  
  
Alex parked the SUV at the curb in front of the apartment building Bobby had directed her to. She got out and walked around the front of the vehicle, raising her head up, looking at the building. Once again she found herself fascinated, and at the same time perplexed, at the variety of people Bobby had as friends. A garage mechanic, a numerously tattooed man who looked like a Hells Angel. Tree huggers. He didn't offer much about his personal life, and she'd given up trying to figure him out a long time ago.  
  
He'd stopped half way up the front stoop, waiting for her. When she caught up, they ascended the rest of the steps together. Bobby pushed the buzzer and a moment later a voice came out of the speaker. "Bobby?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The buzzer sounded and the door's lock released. Alex pushed the door open, Bobby right behind her. Inside, he raised his left arm, his attaché book in his hand and pointing toward the stairs. "He's on the second floor."  
  
Neither of the detectives spoke as they climbed the flight of stairs. At the second floor landing, Alex paused, and then followed Bobby to the apartment.  
  
The door was open; a man leaned up against the frame. "Hey, Detective," he said and grinned. Both men reached out and clasped each other's forearms.  
  
"My partner, Alex Eames." Bobby turned and gestured toward her. "Alex, this is Andrew Allen, he and I were in the Army together, in Germany."  
  
Alex and Andrew exchanged the normal first meeting pleasantries, and then Bobby turned back to Andrew. "Tell me about this woman."  
  
"Well," Andrew said, turning and walking further into the apartment, to the living room. "I've seen her in the club a few times, enough times to know her by sight." He held an arm out to a chair, signaling for Alex to have a seat, then sat down on the couch. Bobby sat next to him and opened his notebook. Andrew continued. "Last night she just walked up to me out of the blue and started talking. It was a slow night, so I had the time." He glanced at Bobby. "I didn't know she was married yet, and ." Bobby nodded in understanding. "I guess she was getting a feel for me, sizing me up, and after a while, she asked if I'd seen some show on tv the week before, about the man hiring someone to kill his wife, she was kind of easing into it. So we, well she, started talking about it, then she just came out and asked if I knew anyone who would do something like that."  
  
"She said 'someone to murder my husband'?" Alex asked.  
  
"Not really, no. When she asked, I started to laugh, I thought she was joking, ya know, but then I saw her face and I knew she was serious." He looked at Bobby. "I thought I'd play along, buy enough time till I was able to talk to you." Again, Bobby nodded in understanding.  
  
"So you told her you could find somebody?"  
  
"Pretty much, yeah. I told her to give me a couple of days, to come back Thursday night. She said ok, then she left."  
  
"Do you know this woman's name?" Alex asked.  
  
"No. I just know what she looks like."  
  
"Ok." Bobby said, standing up. "I'll be there Thursday night and you can introduce me to her."  
  
"You're gonna be the hit man?" Andrew asked.  
  
"Yeah." Bobby said, and shrugged, as if to say, who else?  
  
*****  
  
Before going to the club, Bobby had a surveillance team wire him with a microphone and a miniature camera, hidden in a ball cap. In a van parked down the street a little, Alex and two other detectives sat with the receivers. They watched on the monitor as Bobby made his way across the parking lot and into the club. The place was full, but not packed, and Bobby spotted Andrew right away, leaned up against the bar. He walked across the floor, stepping around and through conversations. In the van, watching the feed from Bobby's ball cap, Alex surprised herself by realizing this was Bobby's view of the world. It had been awhile since she'd taken notice of Bobby's height, and now seeing everything from a foot higher than she usually did, she was enjoying it.  
  
Arriving at the bar, Bobby clapped Andrew on the back, getting his attention. "She here?"  
  
"Haven't seen her." Andrew said as his eyes searched the room.  
  
Bobby saw him looking. "Don't bother." Sitting down on the closest bar stool, resting his elbows on the bar. "She'll find you."  
  
Andrew kept his eyes moving, searching the room. Not only looking for the woman, but also watching out for any potential disturbances, doing his job. After a few moments, he turned back to Bobby. "Know what this place reminds me of on nights like this?"  
  
"Yeah, I think I do." Bobby said and swiveled in his seat, looking at Andrew from under the ball cap.  
  
"That place in Hamelburg? You remember?" He grinned. "And that night. When you hired that hooker to go up to Johnson and . . . there she is." In the van, Alex unconsciously sat up straighter, and scooted up in her seat. Bobby watched as a woman approached Andrew, and the two of the exchanged a few words. A moment later Andrew turned to Bobby. "This is the lady I was telling you about."  
  
He stretched his hand out. "Bobby."  
  
"Annie." She said, shaking his hand.  
  
Bobby glanced around them, and then nodded toward a close empty table. "More private over there."  
  
"Alright."  
  
She led the way through the maze of people standing around, Bobby followed, right behind her. Reaching the booth, she sat, Bobby slid in across from her. She examined him for a moment. Bobby remembered Andrew saying she had sized him up, and that's what she was doing now.  
  
She glanced at Andrew, still at the bar, then back at Bobby. "He's told you what I need?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And you'd be willing to do something like that?"  
  
"For the right price."  
  
"Five thousand."  
  
Bobby raised an eyebrow, leaning into the table, closer to her. "You must really want him dead."  
  
Annie matched his position, leaning in, bringing her face even closer. "Yes. I really want him dead."  
  
She kept herself there for another moment, then straightened back up. "What can you make it look like?"  
  
Bobby too, straightened back up. "An accident. Robbery."  
  
"Robbery. I like the sound of that."  
  
Bobby nodded. "Alright. I'll take his wallet, watch. Whatever."  
  
"Ok, and you can give them back to me when I pay you."  
  
"What? Andrew didn't say anything about having to wait for the money." Bobby put on a show of being mad.  
  
"Well, I'm not going to pay you before you do it. How do I know you won't just take the money and not do the job?"  
  
Bobby hunched his shoulders in defeat. Turning his head toward Andrew, he said: "Ok. Guess I don't have a choice."  
  
"Good." Annie agreed with a lilt in her voice. "Now," she reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here's his picture, and a list of things about him. Where he works, things like that." She handed it to Bobby and watched as he unfolded the paper. He glanced at the photo, and then turned his attention to the list. "Will you be needing anything else?"  
  
"How will I contact you after?" He asked.  
  
"Here's my card." She reached, again, into her purse and handed him a business card. Bobby glanced at it then tucked it in his coat pocket, along with the photo and list she'd written. "And I'll want a picture." She paused. "Of him dead, of course. As proof. Well." She said after a moment, placing both hands flat on the table. "I guess that's it then." She stood up and tucked her purse under her arm. Looking down at Bobby, still sitting in the booth, she said: "Looking forward to hearing from you." And she walked away.  
  
Bobby waited for just a moment, then stood from the booth. He found her in the crowd, and watched her walk out the door. In a moment Andrew was at his side.  
  
"Well?" Andrew asked.  
  
"We made the deal." Bobby told him.  
  
Andrew glanced quickly around them, then out the window. He watched as Annie climbed into a cab and leave. "So why aren't you arresting her?"  
  
"Can't." Bobby said, and then realized his friend still didn't understand. "Talking about it isn't illegal. She has to make a payment for us to prove intent."  
  
Andrew stared, open mouthed at him. "So now what?"  
  
"Now, I have to tell her husband." Bobby gripped his friend on the shoulder "Thanks for your help, man." Andrew nodded, speechless, and watched Bobby leave.  
  
Out in the night air, Bobby took the ball cap off, and ran his arm across his forehead. The van door was already open, the other two detectives having already climbed into the drivers and front passengers seats. Bobby stepped up into the back of the van and shut the door behind him.  
  
"The tape come out alright?" He asked Alex.  
  
"Yeah. Would've been perfect if she'd given you some money." Alex shook her head.  
  
Bobby pulled the photo, business card and list out of his pocket, handing them to Alex. Alex looked at the picture first, then unfolded the list. "James O'Grady. We're going to see him in the morning?"  
  
"Yeah. We'll have to have his co-operation."  
  
Alex quickly finished the list, refolded it and handed everything back to Bobby. She looked at him for a moment, then, cocking an eyebrow said: "You hired a German hooker?"  
  
Bobby smiled at her, and at the memory. "Long story."  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, the black SUV pulled up in front of James O'Grady's dry cleaners. Inside, both detectives recognized the man behind the counter from the picture his wife had given Bobby. They pulled out their badges as they approached the counter. "James O'Grady?" Alex asked.  
  
"Yes." He answered, casting his eyes down to the badges, then back up to her face, worried. "Is something wrong? Is it Annie? Is it my wife?"  
  
"Is there some place we can talk privately?" Bobby asked.  
  
James looked from one detective to the other. "Yes. Our break room." He raised a part of the counter top, allowing room for Bobby and Alex to walk through. He led them, nervously, down the hall and then into a side room. Preparing himself for bad news, he sat down on couch. "Is it my wife?"  
  
"Yes, it is." Bobby answered him, and then held out his hand in a stopping gesture. "It's not what you're thinking." Bobby sat down next to him. "She's not hurt." James's eyes closed, in silent thanks. Bobby continued. "I'm sorry to be so blunt, but there is no good way to say this. Last night your wife hired me to kill you."  
  
James's eyes flew open. "No. You have to be mistaken. You have the wrong James O'Grady. Annie wouldn't do that. We love each other." James paused, trying to think of all the other reasons they would be wrong.  
  
Silently, Bobby unzipped his attaché notebook and pulled out the videotape they'd recorded off the monitor. He handed it to Alex. She popped it into the VCR and turned on the TV. ". . . There she is." Andrews voice came out of the speaker. James watched, his expression growing more and more horrified as he watched the few minutes of tape.  
  
"Looking forward to hearing from you." Annie said from the TV. James dropped his head in his hands. His back heaved up and down, and the room was filled with the sound of his sobs.  
  
"Mr. O'Grady." Bobby said quietly. "Mr. O'Grady, I know how hard this must be for you, but we need to talk to you now."  
  
"I won't help you put her in jail." James shook his head, his voice muffled by his hands.  
  
"If we don't stop her now, she's going to find someone who WILL kill you." Alex said.  
  
James took two deep breaths. In another moment he raised his head and looked at Bobby, then at Alex.  
  
Walking over to a side table, Alex pulled a tissue out of the box and handed it to James. "Why would you want to stay with this woman?" She waved an arm toward the TV.  
  
James didn't answer, only stared blankly at her.  
  
"You won't be able to change her mind." Bobby told him, still speaking quietly. "This can only end two ways. Her in jail, or you dead."  
  
Bobby and Alex both could see James turning this over in his mind. After a few seconds, his eyes went from the blank stare to defeat, then confusion. He looked at Bobby. "Why didn't you already arrest her?"  
  
Bobby explained as best he could. When he was finished, James's face was worried again. "If you can't arrest her until she pays you, and she won't pay you until I'm dead . . ." he stopped, not knowing what it was he wanted to say next.  
  
"We're going to kill you." Bobby said.  
  
*****  
  
James flipped the open sign to closed and locked the door behind him. Bobby was on the curb, holding the open back door of the SUV. James went to climb in, the stopped, looking up at Bobby. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and shook his head, changing his mind. He climbed in and fastened his seat belt. Bobby shut the door behind him and climbed in to the seat across from Alex.  
  
Bobby had picked out the place on his way home the night before. An empty lot that would afford them some privacy. The ride there was silent, expect for a phone call Bobby made on his cell, and all he said was "It's Bobby, we're on our way now."  
  
Half an hour later Alex pulled up and parked near the lot. Patches of grass and several broken bottles dotted the square of dirt. A woman holding a small pink case was standing on the edge of the dirt, and began walking toward the SUV when they pulled up. "Who's that?" Alex asked, shutting off the engine.  
  
"Friend of mine. She's a makeup artist." Bobby said and opened his door. "Hi Rebecca, thanks for coming."  
  
"Not a problem." Rebecca said. Looking in the back seat, she pointed with her chin, "is that him?"  
  
"Yeah." Bobby reached over and opened the back seat door. James climbed out and stood there, not knowing what do to with himself.  
  
"Alex, this is Rebecca. Beck, this is Alex Eames, my partner." Rebecca looked Alex up and down very quickly, "Hi." She said and smiled sweetly.  
  
"And this is James." Bobby said pointing, "I need you to make him look dead."  
  
"Real dead, or fresh kill?"  
  
"Recent." He answered.  
  
"How do you want him killed?"  
  
"Beat up, maybe some marks on his neck." Alex answered.  
  
"Ok." Rebecca said and set her case on the hood of the SUV. Bobby took James' elbow and guided him over to her.  
  
Bobby and Alex stood off to the side, watching her work. James stood motionless, letting the sponges and brushes glide over his skin. He still hadn't said a word. About ten minutes later, Rebecca took a step back and inspected her work. "Wal-la." She pronounced, turning to Bobby for approval.  
  
Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah. That's good. Thanks Beck."  
  
"Anytime." She answered, tossing the last few things in her case and snapping it shut.  
  
"And, please." Bobby took a step, so he was next to her, "you can't tell anyone about this."  
  
"Bobby," she said and clinched his lapel between her thumb and index finger, "I can keep a secret, remember?" She smiled as she let go of his jacket.  
  
Bobby glanced behind him, to gage Alex's reaction. By the time he turned back around, Rebecca was already down the sidewalk, turning back to wave and smile.  
  
He turned his attention over to James, who was still standing in the same position Rebecca had left him, staring at nothing. "Mr. O'Grady?" James pulled himself out of whatever world he was in, and looked at Bobby. "Ready?" Bobby asked, holding his arm out to the empty lot.  
  
Alex stood aside as James walked past her onto the dirt. She glanced back at Bobby. "I'm worried about him."  
  
Bobby shrugged one shoulder, "What would you expect from a man who's world just came down?" He walked back to the SUV and opened up the rear door. Reaching in, he pulled out a couple packs of ketchup and a Polaroid camera.  
  
The two detectives joined James on the dirt. "If you could lie down for me Mr. O'Grady." James laid down on the dirt, face-up. Crouching down, Bobby tore off a corner of one of the packs of ketchup and squeezed out some onto the corner of James' mouth. "Turn your head to the left. And unfocus your eyes." James did as he was told. Bobby stood up, studying effect. He raised the camera up to his eye.  
  
Click, sssstttt. Alex reached up and grasped the picture as it glided out. Click sssstttt. The second photo slid out and Alex took that one as well, and walked back to the SUV, flapping them.  
  
"Ok, Mr. O'Grady. We're done." Bobby held out his hand to help the other man up. James grasped the offered hand and struggled to his feet.  
  
Alex had laid the Polaroid's down on the carpet in the back of the SUV. Reaching in, she pulled out a tub of pop up cleansing wipes and handed it to James. He took the tub and pulled out three wipes and began rubbing them over his face as he walked to the backseat door and climbed in. Bobby picked up the photos from where Alex had laid them. He nodded his head in approval. "Looks good. She'll believe it."  
  
"What're we going to do with him?" Alex nodded her head toward the back seat. "We can't take him home."  
  
"He'll have to come back to the station with us."  
  
*****  
  
On the drive back to the station, Bobby had Alex pull up to a curb. Getting out, he walked up to a pay phone. Alex saw him drop a quarter and dial. She glanced in the rear view mirror. James didn't appear to be aware that they had stopped. He was still staring at nothing. Alex sighed, shaking her head, and looked back at Bobby. He was speaking into the phone. Glancing at his watch, he nodded, spoke again and hung up. He glanced in the backseat as he climbed back into the vehicle. He too shook his head then looked at Alex. "She'll meet me at seven, back at the bar."  
  
*****  
  
"Is he alright?" Captain Deakins asked, looking at James.  
  
Bobby shrugged. "It's a hell of a way to find out your getting divorced."  
  
Alex took off her blazer and drooped it off the back of her chair. "Mr. O'Grady, you'll be more comfortable in here." She led him to the small conference room.  
  
The door was almost shut when James quietly mumbled "Thanks". Alex suddenly realized that was the first word he'd spoken since he locked up his shop.  
  
*****  
  
Since it was Friday, the bar was a little more crowded. The after five crowd mingled with the bar hoping crowd. Bobby again wore the ball cap and the monitors in the van were picking up the signals just as well as they had the night before.  
  
Because the crowd was larger, Andrew sat on a stool near the door. He greeted Bobby and pointed to where Annie was already sitting. Bobby saw the worry on his friends face. "It'll be alright."  
  
At the table, Bobby slid in across from Annie and pulled the Polaroid's out of his pocket. Putting them face down on the tabletop, he covered them with his hand and pushed them across the table. Then he took out James' wallet, watch and wedding ring. She picked the photos up gingerly, as if they were made of gold. Bobby watched her face closely as she looked at them. She showed no emotion at all. She pulled her purse on to her lap, slipped the photos, the wallet and the jewelry inside and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it to Bobby. "Thanks." And with that, she got up and left.  
  
At the door, Andrew watched her walk out, and then nervously glanced around, as if he expected all the customers to turn out to be one large SWAT team. Bobby walked up behind him and clapped Andrew on the shoulder. "Told you it'd be alright."  
  
*****  
  
They waited a few hours, and then sent a squad car to knock on her door. Inside the house Annie could see the police car parked at the curb. She fixed a worried expression on her face and opened the door. "Yes?"  
  
"Mrs. O'Grady?" The officer asked.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Ma'am, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but we've found a body whose prints match your husbands."  
  
"James?" She cried.  
  
"Yes Ma'am, I'm sorry. Could you come down with us to make an id?"  
  
"Yes. Of . . .of course. Just let me get my purse."  
  
*****  
  
The officer opened the door of the interrogation room. "Why don't you wait for the detective in here Ma'am?" He smiled as she crossed in front of him into the room. "Nothing but crooks and cops out there. Detective Eames will be in shortly."  
  
"I don't understand." Annie said, looking around the room. "I thought you were taking me to the morgue."  
  
"Detective Eames would like to ask you a few questions first." The officer answered and left the room, shutting the door behind him.  
  
  
  
On the other side of the mirror, Bobby looked at James as he watched his wife. "You don't have to watch this."  
  
James' hands were pressed flat against the glass, as if trying to touch Annie one last time. "Yes I do have to." He answered quietly.  
  
  
  
"Mrs. O'Grady, I'm Detective Eames. I just have a few questions, please, have a seat." Alex sat at the table, her back to the mirror and gestured toward the chair on the other side.  
  
Annie sat down, looking at the papers Alex had in laid out in front of her.  
  
"Your husband is James O'Grady?" Alex asked, opening a file and reading from it.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He owns Clean Rite dry cleaners?" Still reading.  
  
"Yes. When can I see my husband?"  
  
"This'll just take a few minutes." Alex still hadn't looked up from the file. She read for a few more moments.  
  
Impatiently, Annie drummed her fingertips on the table. "Why aren't you out looking for the people who murdered my husband?"  
  
Alex looked up from the files. "Who said he was murdered?" She asked, tilting her head.  
  
Flustered, Annie took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at nonexistent tears. "Well, I just assumed . . . I mean this city . . . and besides I don't even know for sure it's James. I still haven't seen his body."  
  
"Finger prints don't lie, Mrs. O'Grady."  
  
"Please." Annie wailed, "I have to know for sure. Can't I see him?" Real tears were finally streaming down her face.  
  
  
  
On the other side of the mirror, Deakins mumbled, "Oh, she's good." Then cast a regretful glance at James.  
  
  
  
Alex watched Annie weep for a moment, and then decided she'd had enough. Standing from the table, she walked over to the cart with the television and VCR. She turned on the TV, and hit the play button on the VCR.  
  
Annie watched, mouth agape, as her own image appeared on the screen. She watched herself lean over the table, and heard herself saying: "Yes. I really want him dead." She glanced at Alex then jumped up out of her seat, pointing toward the TV. "He set me up. That man, he's the one who killed my husband."  
  
"You mean that man?" Alex asked, and pointed toward the door.  
  
Annie turned. Bobby was standing in the doorway, his badge hanging out of his jacket pocket.  
  
"No . . . No . . . No." Annie backed away from Bobby. Behind her, the tape played on: "Well, I'm not going to pay you before you do it. How do I know you won't just take the money and not do the job?" Annie's eyes fully focused on Bobby, her mind reeling with ways to try to get out of this, she didn't realize she was backing up right into Alex.  
  
Grabbing her wrists, Alex gathered Annie's hands behind her, snapping on the handcuffs. "Annie O'Grady, you're under arrest for solicitation of murder." Bobby stepped back and out of the way as Alex marched Annie out of the room and into the hands of the uniformed officer who'd driven her in.  
  
Annie wrestled her self to a stop and glared up at Bobby. "That damn bouncer, this is all his fault." She was about to say more, but the uniformed officer pushed her down the hall. James had walked out into the corridor, and Annie shrieked when she saw him. "Bastard. All of you, you're bastards." Annie kept screaming as the officer led her down the hall. Captain Deakins took James into his office.  
  
Alex stood in front of Bobby in the open doorway, both of them watching. A moment after Annie's shouts dwindled into silence, Alex walked back in to the interrogation room and began to gather the papers lain out on the table.  
  
Bobby walked over and shut off the TV, and hit the rewind button on the VCR. Alex looked up as she piled the last few papers. "So." She said slyly. "Tell me about the German hooker." 


End file.
